


Finding Closure

by Beth H (bethbethbeth)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Muggle Self Help Books, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 06:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethbethbeth/pseuds/Beth%20H
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after the Battle of Hogwarts and the loss of so many loved ones, Minerva McGonagall can't help but feel she still owes an apology to one particular absent loved one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Closure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kelly_chambliss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelly_chambliss/gifts).



> _Written for[Reversathon 2012](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/reversathon/14198.html)._
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> (spoiler in the end-notes)

"You know, Minerva," grumbled Poppy, sliding her wand back into the pocket in front of her robe, "you _could_ have made my life easier by letting me conduct this examination at Hogwarts."

"Yes, well, that would have required that I still _be_ at Hogwarts."

"You could have been, you know. You can't honestly tell me that the Board of Governors didn't offer you a teaching contract."

"Of course they did," Minerva snapped. "But you, of all people, know that I'm in no fit state to teach Transfigurations. Not yet, at least. Not full time."

"I'm sure they would have made some accommodation, at least until there was no more sign of nerve damage."

"Are you, Poppy? Are you _actually_ certain of that or is that just wishful thinking? Because I am quite certain they would not have done."

"Oh, and now you've suddenly become a Legilimens, have you?"

"One needn't be proficient in uncommon magical disciplines to know that _your_ new Headmaster is looking to see as many of the old guard ousted as can be accomplished without raising a general hue and cry."

Poppy sniffed. "Yes, well...the less said about _him_ , the better. Why the Board decided against keeping you on as Headmistress is beyond me."

"Clean brooms and all that, Poppy, just as I said." Minerva sighed. "It's not as if I couldn't use the rest, you know. It's just...well."

"It's just that you wanted to choose your own time to retire," Poppy said gently.

"Exactly."

"Well, I think it's bloody unfair."

"Hmm, yes, well...apparently not enough to walk out in solidarity like a Muggle trade unionist," Minerva said archly. "Don't think it's slipped my notice that you're still comfortably ensconced in the hospital wing."

Poppy's eyes narrowed. "I'll let that jibe go on the basis of our long years of friendship and the likelihood that you're suffering from a heretofore undiagnosed mental disability on top of the nerve damage."

"Thank you," Minerva said with a small smile. "That's the mark of a true friend."

"In any case," Poppy said briskly, "I shouldn't think I'll be there much longer myself."

"Don't tell me they're pressuring you to leave as well," Minerva said indignantly.

Poppy shook her head. "No, it's not that; it's just...it's time I was moving on with my life. Time we all were, I should think, before it's too late. Wouldn't you agree?" she added hopefully.

"You do know that subtlety has never been your long suit."

"Is there anything wrong with wanting to make sure one's old friends are properly sorted out once they've lost...well, changed careers?"

"Changed careers," Minerva muttered. "Interesting euphemism."

"Oh, you know what I mean," said Poppy. "I just...."

"For heaven's sake," Minerva said. "You needn't hover over me like Rubeus with a clutch of Blast-Ended Skrewts. I'm not about to die, Poppy. I'm not _that_ old."

"I didn't say you were." 

Minerva looked at her suspiciously, but Poppy shook her head. "Honestly, that isn't what I meant. I just...listen, Minnie, our entire lives have centered on Hogwarts. Surely there has to be something else, for both of us."

Minerva looked away.

"Min?" Poppy said quietly. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Minerva said, turning back, her face set in an emotionless mask. "Only...you know there _was_ something else, something other than Hogwarts in my life. Or at least there might have been."

Poppy sighed. "Are you really still thinking about...that was all such a long time ago, Minnie." 

"Not such a _very_ long time ago," Minerva said quietly.

"That doesn't mean there's _nobody_ out there, waiting for you somewhere, not that I'd expect you to actually _do_ anything about it. No, you're far too much like...well, you're very _constant_ in your affections, aren't you?"

Minerva narrowed her eyes. "Is there any particular reason we're talking about Severus now, seven years after...well, seven years too late for any of it to matter in the slightest?"

"Because you're my friend, and even though that's all we'll ever be - and you can vanish that stricken look from your face, my girl...I assure you I haven't been pining for you all these years - you still need closure."

"Closure?" Minerva repeated, as if she'd just tasted something slightly sour. " _Closure_? When did you start using Muggle termin...oh for heaven's sake, have you been keeping company with Hermione Weasley?"

Poppy scowled, but the telling flush that bloomed on her cheeks gave Minerva her answer.

"You _have_ been!"

"Her name is _Granger_ again, as you well know," Poppy snapped, "and...it's not like...look, I'll have you know everything's been purely professional and above board, Minerva McGonagall. Part of Hermione's recent...she's studying to be a healer, dammit."

"Mmm, of course," Minerva said with an almost imperceptible smirk. "I'm certain it's just a meeting of the minds; I know how interested you've always been in the theoretical side of your profession."

"I _am_! I have been. I'm not a complete Philistine," Poppy sniffed. 

"Of course you're not," Minerva replied blandly. "Just as I'm certain thoughts about the recent dissolution of Hermione's marriage never even entered your mind. Even though she _is_ just your type, isn't she?"

"Oh, for goodness...she's only 25 years old, and all we've ever done is _talk_."

"Not through lack of trying on your part, I'd imagine," Minerva said archly. "Apparently she's already convinced you to embrace Muggle psyche-whatsit." 

"Psychology, and really, Minerva, your horizons could do with a bit of broadening. In any case, don't think I'm going to let you change the subject. It just won't _do_ to keep fretting over the way things ended between the two of you, especially now that you don't have the distraction of work. In my _professional_ opinion, what you need is --"

"Closure," Minerva said, scowling.

"Mock all you want, Min, but--" Poppy sighed, then took Minerva's hand and squeezed it tightly. "I think this is important for you, no matter _where_ the idea came from originally. I'm your friend, and...just tell me that you'll think about it?"

If Minerva had been the sort of woman to shrug her shoulders, she might have done so on this occasion.

"I'll think about it, Poppy."

***

It was far easier said than done, no matter what Poppy's ridiculous Muggle self-help book professed. 

Minerva had given serious thought to the suggestions in the book, but none of them seemed quite...viable. 

The notion of a public memorial service, she rejected almost immediately. Not only would Severus have found the whole idea uncomfortable and distasteful in the extreme, but Minerva couldn't imagine how she could possibly explain to her former colleagues and Order members why she suddenly felt the uncharacteristic need to wallow in emotions for a man whose actions many had come to respect, but whose loss few mourned. She could barely understand the impulse herself.

A more intimate, _private_ gathering seemed equally wrong somehow, as if the act of remembering Severus with any kind of fondness was something that needed to be hidden away, and even the most simple suggestion from the book - 'Sharing memories with mutual friends' - had to be discarded when Minerva realized how impossible it would be to find a single 'mutual friend' with whom she could stand to spend any time; the very thought of an afternoon spent in the company of Lucius or Narcissa Malfoy was unbearable, and as far as Minerva knew, there were no others still living whom Severus could possibly have considered a friend. 

She had never been one for writing her thoughts in a diary, but she took seriously the book's suggestion that she try to collect her thoughts in a letter addressed to Severus himself.

She tried. 

She sincerely tried.

On more that one occasion, in fact, her letters progressed an entire sentence or two beyond the opening salutation. However, each time she reached that point, Minerva was forced to abandon her epistolary unburdening when Severus' face - unbidden and unwelcome, and complete with an all-too-familiar sneer - appeared before her. Hallucinatory countenances were unlikely to have any true ability to freeze the ink in her quill, but apparently metaphoric abilities were quite within their power and more than enough to bring an end to the progress of each and every attempt to write a letter.

The book's penultimate suggestion (she'd put 'prayer' aside as a last resort) was that she re-visit the places they'd spent time together, but that came with its own set of difficulties, chief amongst which being that the places they'd spent the _most_ time together (Hogwarts' staff room, the office of the Headmaster, the head table in the Great Hall, her old rooms, _his_ old rooms) were all virtually off limits to her now. She had no doubt that in an emergency, the new Headmaster would welcome her back into the school, but nothing short of a matter of life and death could get Minerva to ask a favor of the man who had been instrumental in bringing an early end to her career.

With both the Three Broomsticks and the Hog's Head Inn under new management and currently undergoing renovations, Minerva could think of only a single location where she and Severus had spent any meaningful amount of time.

Spinner's End.

The truth was that Minerva wasn't at all certain that Severus' old home was even still standing. It was true that she'd heard nothing about its destruction at the hands of the Death Eaters and as far as she knew, it had been - as the Muggles said - off the radar of the Ministry entirely, but it was, not to put too fine a point on it, a bit of a tip, so much so that she wouldn't be at all surprised to discover that it had been condemned by one local administrative body or another and razed to the ground.

Still, it was clear that the book and Minerva were both running out of options, and so early one Sunday morning, fortified with an unsweetened and over-brewed cup of Tetley's in honor of Severus' memory, Minerva Apparated to the long since abandoned park near his family's home, then set off down the road for Spinner's End.

***

The house was still standing, if one's definition of "standing" included 'listing to one side' and 'probably propped up with rusted tin sheets.' The windows were all boarded up and weeds were growing through the cracks in the front step.

Minerva reached into her bag and withdrew the old, heavy key Severus had once given her as a symbolic gesture, then approached the door and silently cast an unlocking charm. 

There was a slight delay before the door clicked open, and for that brief moment, Minerva realized she had been harboring some small hope that _Alohamora_ wouldn't be sufficient to open the door: that Severus had once cared enough about his own well-being to place additional safeguards on his home, but that appeared not to be the case.

She sighed and entered the familiar front hall, blinking once or twice to accustom herself to the ever-present gloom. The house _had_ electrical wiring, but Minerva knew from home visits when Severus was still young that the Snapes were, more often than not, unable to pay their rates bills in a timely fashion, and once Severus was the sole occupant of the house, he relied almost entirely on candlelight at Spinner's End, as he did at Hogwarts.

There was a faint, expected musty smell in the air, although no more than she had noticed in prior visits. The freshening charms and anti-dust charms that Eileen must have cast before her untimely passing were weak, but still intact. Not for the first time, Minerva remembered how adept Eileen had been in Filius' classes when he had only just started to teach and Minerva and Eileen had both been young girls, worlds of possibility still lying enticingly before them.

Minerva turned automatically to the mantel and gave a small wave to the photograph of a smiling Eileen Prince on her wedding day. Say what one might about Tobias Snape, he'd been a striking man.

As for his son....

She brushed her fingertips across the glass, stifling the impulse to tickle the photographic image of Severus' young self.

Minerva wasn't sure the word 'striking' could be used to describe the son's appearance in the way it did the father's. The two men shared little in the way of looks beyond a certain similarity in the determined set of their shoulders. 

As for Eileen, Severus shared his mother's unfortunate nose and her sallow coloring. His hair was far worse, limp and lifeless, and similar only in coloration to his mother's.

Yet there was _something_ about his looks - something in the intense brilliant spark of his eyes, the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the strangely soft, oddly enticing lower lip that drew the eye - something that made Severus utterly unforgettable and if not truly attractive, then...interesting at the very least.

Minerva had never been particularly surprised that the students at Hogwarts had rarely seemed to share her perspective. Severus' was not a face likely to win _Witch Weekly's_ 'Most Charming Smile' award or whatever passed as a standard of beauty amongst young witches and wizards these days. 

The truth was that Minerva had seen little of the man Severus was to become when he was a student, young and unformed. However, when he returned to Hogwarts as a teacher, old before his time and mourning the loss of one of the few friends he'd ever had, there was something new to the look of Minerva's former student, something compelling.

He had grown into his face - and Minerva found herself drawn to the young man in a way she hadn't been drawn to anybody in years.

"Oh, I do _miss_ you, you horrid man," Minerva murmured, as once again, she brushed her fingers lightly across the glass.

She set the photograph back on the mantel and shook her head. "I can't put this off forever. Right...perhaps I'll just--"

She looked around the cramped sitting room, cataloging the same books, crammed into every available surface from scuffed floor to rain-damp ceiling, the same faded carpet, and the same threadbare settee.

"His chair, I think," Minerva said decisively, then traveled the three steps across the room and sat in Severus' worn leather chair. 

She raised her hand and with trembling fingers, touched the tea-stained blue and white cup and saucer that sat, long-forgotten now, at the edge of the small walnut side table. When she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the lingering warmth of Severus' tea.

Minerva folded her hands in her lap and shook her head. "Seven years since we last spoke. Or...eight years, strictly speaking, since I don't suppose one could call any of what we did that last year we spent together at Hogwarts _speaking_."

"Well...Severus," Minerva said slowly. "This appears to be far more difficult than I thought it was going to be, but...Poppy tells me I need to find closure. Yes, I'm certain you're laughing to hear that, wherever you are." She glanced quickly over her shoulder, almost as if she might find him standing there, mocking her, just as she would have expected. "If you were here..."

"Would you want me to apologize?" She lifted her chin in a challenging manner. "I won't do it, you know. I won't apologize no matter what Poppy Pomfrey's ridiculous book says. You don't deserve an apology, lying to me like that, making me think you...making me leave you _alone_ like that. And then you _died_ , you horrid man. You died and left me to...." 

A sudden, unexpected sob caught in Minerva's throat and her eyes burned with hot, angry tears. She reached for her handkerchief, but her fingers stiffened, cramping and numb all at once, causing her to drop the cloth at her feet.

Innumerable times since the Final Battle, Minerva - when overly tired or anxious or under great stress - had found herself stricken with sudden pain, always without warning and always debilitating, but the pain never lasted for more than a moment or two. This time it was _different_. This time instead of dissipating, the pain in her hands _grew_ , traveling from palm to wrist to forearm to elbow. She leaned forward, capturing her arms within the press of her body, as if simple pressure and sheer force of will could somehow combine to counteract the agony, but still the pain spread, intensifying as it reached her upper arms and shoulders.

Unable to reach her wand, to summon assistance, to do _anything_ to lessen the severity of the pain, Minerva clenched her eyes tightly and found herself wholly incapable of silencing the mewling cry that came unbidden from her throat.

And then - as suddenly as it had begun - the pain ceased completely, replaced by an odd soothing warmth that could _only_ be the result of a spell.

In an instant, Minerva rose from the chair, drawing her wand into her hand as she stood. "Who's here?" she said commandingly, her eyes darting quickly around the dim room. She cast a variant of the Aparecium spell, but she saw nothing. "Reveal yourself!" Minerva cried, preparing herself to cast _Protego_ at the shadows. "I demand that you _reveal_ yourself!"

"Oh, for God's sake," an _almost_ familiar voice rasped behind her ear. "I'll reveal myself if you put that bloody wand away."

Minerva spun around, her wand dropping to the floor as the shock of seeing her long dead colleague, her long dead friend, her long dead _lover_ slowly permeated her consciousness.

"Severus?" she said, confusion etched on her brow. "You're alive."

"Impressive deduction, Minerva," he replied, his voice harsh and grating and so incredibly, unbelievably _beloved_ that it was all Minerva could do to keep from weeping like a child.

Her profound relief as she took in the reality of the almost unbelievable sight before her did nothing to stop her from summoning her wand and casting a sharp, most certainly painful hex in his direction.

"Ow!" he yelped. "You damned cat, that _hurt_!"

"It was meant to," she snapped. "You dreadful man, you wretched--" 

But the thought was never completed as Minerva inexplicably - shamefully - burst into tears. 

In an instant, Severus was _there_ , his arms wrapped tightly around Minerva and while he had never been the sort of man comfortable with giving comfort, she could almost believe she heard him whisper "It's all right. It's all _right_ " as she sheltered within his so-long-absent embrace.

***

"I don't blame you a bit," Poppy said. "I'd have hexed him myself. The nerve of that man, making everybody think he was dead and gone. Was it some sort of horrid joke?"

"I don't think so," Minerva said, shaking her head. "He hasn't said what he was thinking - he's barely told me anything about what he's been doing these past years - but...no, it was no joke."

"Then what _was_ it?"

"I haven't a clue, my dear. It was all I could do to keep him from Obliviating me."

"Does he know you were planning on telling me that he was still alive?"

Minerva nodded. "Yes, although he did mutter something about compelling me to make you swear an Unbreakable Vow to keep his secret."

"Ridiculous man," Poppy scoffed. "I'll keep his secret - he knows that - it won't be the first secret I kept for him over the years. So what now, Minnie?"

"Now...well, we'll see, I suppose. He's asked me to go on a trip with him."

"You're joking!" Poppy said, her eyes widening with surprise. "Where's he planning on taking you?"

"Haven't a clue," Minerva said, "but I shouldn't think the destination is really the important part. In any case, as I seem to find myself at leisure, as the saying goes, I've accepted. We'll be leaving in the morning."

Poppy shook her head. "When I said you needed to find closure, to get on with your life...well, I never would have imagined _this_ "

"No," Minerva said, her lips quirking up in a small smile. "Neither would I, but here we are."

"I'll miss you, Min," Poppy said with a sigh. "Promise you'll keep in touch, whatever happens."

"Of course I will. Owl post might be a bit tricky where we're going, but...perhaps I'll find a way to contact you by _telephone_. I don't suppose you might happen to be spending time in the near future with anybody who has access to Muggle technology? Perhaps a young Muggleborn woman?"

Poppy narrowed her eyes and glared at her oldest friend. "You may think you're amusing, Minerva, but you most certainly are not."

Minerva laughed, her heart feeling light for the first time in years.

**Author's Note:**

> Snape survives canon!


End file.
